Finiar: Book One of The  Shadow Cycle
by Elkcubra
Summary: Five years after the Great Draconian War of Alagaesia, a new threat has come to the riders. One perhaps even Eragon cannot solve. With the help of novice rider Finiar and his Dragon Sundavr, will peace come on Alagaesia once more, or chaos insue again?
1. Opening Statement

**Before this tale begins the writing phase, let me warn my readers, the chapters will be longer than my normal length, and WILL hinder the advancement of my other series. Do not expect many advancements in this story while I labor over my others, or vice versa. With that said, i will begin to tell the tale of the next great threat to the riders, and their dragons, as best as can be described. _Atra esteri ono thelduin. Sed onr sverdar sitja hvass. Stydia unin mor'ranr. _Good luck.**

_Update note: I have uploaded the cover design for this book to my Avatar for lack of a better place to display it. If you want to see it, you must go to my profile or suggest a more efficient method of displaying the cover. Suggestions are welcome, and encouraged._


	2. Chapter 1

**_Hel Istalrí - _A Curse in the Ancient Language. Literally Hell Fire. **

**_Shur'tugal - _Dragon Rider**

**_Du Súndavr Síclon – _The Shadow Cycle**

_**Svit-kona – Honorific prefix for an elf woman of great widom**_

_**líf böllr – Life Orb**_

_**Atra esterní ono thelduin, Eragon Shur'tugal – May good fortune rule over you Eragon Dragon Rider.**_

**The council of Riders**

Finiar gazed up at the sky, watching the birds and wondering what it would be like to fly with them. Eragon and Saphira would know of course, but he didn't feel like asking. They had enough on their minds without his petty questions.

He stood up gave one more longing glance upward before he began the journey back to the village, if you could call it that. The civilization had been started when Eragon and the Elves had relocated to raise the newer dragons. Sadly however, none of the elves had found a match as of yet and riders were still low in numbers.

A dwarf had found a match with one of the eggs back in Alagaësia, a pearly white beast of smaller sized than Saphira, but faster and more agile then any of the others in the land. In addition, an urgal had come to bond with a violet dragon, the second female in Alagaësia, but was still trying to gather the courage to ride it.

Other than these, no eggs had hatched and the Riders were beginning to worry. Five years had passed since the Great Draconian War, as the rebellion against King Galbatorix had come to be known as, and though there had been no real threats, Eragon and Saphira grew anxious to increase their numbers, and the Eldunarí shared their sentiment.

He gazed at the village and saw it was empty of civilians. He wondered why until he noticed the clock.

_"Hel Istalrí,"_ he cursed under his breath and ran for the Town Square. The time had come for the annual meeting for The Council of Riders, and the whole of Alagaësia watched in anticipation… aside from Finiar, who had dozed off in the fields.

Granted there wasn't much to miss, but whether something of importance occurred or not, the splendor of the dragons and the _Shur'tugal_ alike would draw any crowd.

He arrived in time to catch a glimpse of the Scarlet Dragon Thorn and his Emerald-Scaled brother Fírnen fly off into the sunset before the group clustered around the square began to disperse, slowly at first, then gradually increasing until only he was left.

He glanced sadly toward the small specks vanishing into the horizon that he knew were bigger than any bird, more fierce than any storm cloud, and trudged off toward his home.

_-Du Súndavr Síclon-_

"Another year has passed with no events of any significance Arya, I'm well aware of that, but what would you have me do?" Eragon asked furiously.

The Council of Riders didn't have their actual meetings open to the public, those were simply staged. Magical projections of the three riders, Eragon, Murtagh, and Arya were projected and shown flying off, while the real meeting took place in the middle of the night.

"What of the boy?" Murtagh asked. "What part has he played in this ordeal so far?"

"None as of yet, but I suspect that time is coming to an end," he answered gravely.

A silence overcame the group, and a few moments passed before Arya voiced the concern on all of their minds.

"It is not fair to assume that the boy will have anything to do with these events Murtagh. His father was a great man, and we all know it, Glaedr more than any of us, but his father's experience and his son's are two separate stories entirely."

"A good point _Svit-kona_," Murtagh admitted. "Even so, Eragon's father was Brom, and mine own was Morzan, yet here we are. I think it only right to assume that if history has a way of repeating itself, the boy has a part to play."

Arya nodded her consent to this thought and silence once again swallowed the conversation.

"_Saphira, how fares the líf böllr?"_ Fírnen asked. Saphira took a moment to consider before she answered. After doing so she responded smoothly.

"_It fares well,"_ she began simply. _"However it grows impatient. It can sense that its rider is nearby, but can't seem to place it. I begin to wonder if Murtagh has a point about the boy."_

"_A point we might have,"_ Thorn replied. _"A rider we do not. Saphira if you ever want that líf böllr to hatch you must meet with Finiar. He might be our only hope if the stories are true… that is assuming that they are."_

"Or that Finiar is even the rider we are looking for," Eragon countered. "We have good cause to believe so, but you must consider the number of creatures throughout Alagaësia and the Riders Land combined. Humans, Alfä, Knurla, Urgralgra, Werecats whom we added to the pact just last year, and now the-"

"_It would not hatch for one of their kind," _Saphira interrupted._ "Of that I am sure."_

"Not intentionally of course. However we must take into accountthat they could be forced hatchings. Galbatorix himself forced Shruikan to bond with him. Is it really out of the realm of possibility that it could be done while still in the _líf bölrr_?"

"_By a skilled magician such as yourself, easily, but what we are dealing with are not at the level of Galbatorix or any of us,"_ Fírnen noted.

"Not by normal means of course, but you seem to forget that these are not normal standards for their species!" Eragon countered. "The pact does not include their kind, but if they have found a way, then they have found a way, and there is no reason to deny it any longer."

Silence overcame the group after that last statement, after which Arya, who had been mostly silent through the exchange, began to speak.

"Send the _líf böllr _to the boy Saphira. Whatever happens after that can easily be scryed from here by Eragon and yourself. If it hatches then we have a rider, if not we are no worse of than before."

Eragon and Saphira looked at each other and silently talked over their decision. A few seconds later they nodded, and Saphira set a large Jet-black egg in the room. After Eragon recited a few words in the Ancient Language, it vanished and all was silent.

Murtagh glanced at the moon and turned to speak with the others.

"Thorn and I must be off. I have a meeting with the Dwarves tomorrow and I don't want to be late. Goodbye _Svit-kona_, Brother, and may we meet again soon."

He and the red dragon exited the area and were flying high in the nighttime sky mere seconds later.

"I should be going as well," Arya said reluctantly. _"Atra esterní ono thelduin, Eragon Shur'tugal."_

"And you as well," he responded. And then she and Fírnen both exited, leaving the rider and his dragon to their thoughts.


	3. Chapter 2

**Súndavar un esterní- Shadows and Fortune**

**Súndavr Lunskular- Súndavr Nightscales**

**Súndavr- Shadow**

**Bjartskular- Brightscales**

**Valdrflaugd- Ruler-flown**

_**Súndavar un esterní**_

Finiar sat on his bed, gazing at the round jewel-like object sitting on the end of his bedside table. It was round and smooth, almost like an egg, but much too large for any kind of bird, or reptile for that matter. It was also colored a blackish hue, as dark as a moonless midnight.

The problem wasn't with the shape, or color, or even texture for that matter. No, the problem was that it hadn't been there the night before, and he had no idea what it was.

He slowly got out of his bed and approached the stone-like object, and after a few seconds of gazing at it in wonder, he put his palm against the side of it.

He felt a tingling sensation run up his arm, but he couldn't figure out what it was, so he let it be and took his hand away from the stone.

He gazed for a moment more, and then he turned to leave the room. He didn't know exactly what the stone was, but he didn't really want to focus on anything right now.

He was opening the door mere seconds later, when a scratching sound came from behind him.

He turned to see what the commotion was, but was stunned to see the stone gently rocking back and forth, a faint scratching emanating from within.

He gazed a few seconds more, and then it fell to silence. He turned to leave and it immediately began again.

He walked over to the object (for he could no longer assume it was just a stone), and gazed at it's shadowy exterior a few seconds.

All of a sudden, a large _crunch _resonated from within, and a crack appeared in the side of it. Another came, and another, and within seconds of the first occurrence, a small creature stood where the egg (he was positive that's what it was) had sat mere moments before.

It was a bat-like organism at first glance, jet-black, much like the egg had been, and wings protruding from its back. When closely examined however, it was slightly bigger and had four limbs instead of two, both of which were much more muscular than any bat's. Its head was also more reptilian, and despite it's dark appearance, when closely examined, it had a layer of scales, not fur.

It gingerly opened its eyes, and Finiar noticed that they were a completely different color from the rest of its body. Its irises were a violet color, which stood out a great deal when compared to the midnight coloring of the rest of its body.

Finiar gently reached out to rub its head, but the moment he made contact, a burning sensation erupted on his palm. He pulled away and gazed at the area he had burned.

It was in a coil-like form, much like a snake, deep in slumber. A snake, or maybe…

Finiar jumped up and stumbled backwards, falling over the bed and banging his head against the wall behind him. He gazed at the creature a moment more and then hoisted it up, carrying it to the village center, hoping he could find the only one he thought would understand.

He knew what the creature was… at least he thought that he did. He didn't dare speak of it to anyone as of yet, and knocked on the door to a small house. Luckily, no one was awake yet to see the creature, as Finiar had a habit of waking in the middle of the night.

He heard rustling behind the door, and a man's eye peered out from a small hatch in the door. He gazed down on Finiar and his eyes widened.

"So it was you after all…" he murmured under his breath.

He undid the latch and let Finiar in, quickly closing it behind him and taking the newborn creature from his arms.

He set it on the floor near the fireplace, and the reptilian animal curled up beside it. When Finiar inquired as to why the man had done this, he simply replied, "The heating source speeds the growth process," and left it at that.

A few minutes later, the creature's, a dragon the man had confirmed, eyes fluttered open once more and fixated upon Finiar. They held each other's gaze a few seconds, and then a voice popped into Finiar's mind.

"_Greetings Finiar, My name is Súndavr Lunskular." _The voice was young, and slightly higher than Finiar had imagined, but he attributed it to the age of the dragon. That he had even begun to speak so quickly was a miraculous sign in and of itself. Excluding the age factor however, the voice was low, smooth, and masculine. Finiar felt no need to ask the dragon's gender, for he could tell merely by its _voice_ that it was a male.

The man was surprised at the speed of the dragon's speech as well, but much quicker to recover than Finiar was. He was indeed the mighty Eragon Bromsson, Shadeslayer and Kingkiller, first rider of the new age. Finiar had known he was the only one he could trust with this knowledge, and luckily he had been staying in the village at the time, and not flying around the rest of Vroenguard, where he had gone with the elves to raise the rest of the dragons.

Finiar smiled, and, at Eragon's insistence, responded to the dragon. He turned to the shadow-scaled dragon, and decided on what he thought to be the most fitting response.

"_As you already know, I am Finiar. I would like to tell you of my lineage, but sadly I have yet to discover it. Might I inquire of your own?"_

A few moments passed before the Dragon responded, and Finiar began to worry that he had angered the dragon. In a few moments however, Súndavr responded to his question.

"_I am son to Fírnen and Saphira Bjartskular, Elf-bonded and Valdrflaugd. I am the bane of the night, and you are my rider. May the wind and the sun always be at our backs, and good fortune rule over us from this day forward."_


	4. Chapter 3

**In order to save time, I am only recording words in the Ancient Language that aren't defined in the story below. Words in previous chapters will not be recorded either. Definitions courtesy of The Inheritance Wikia, with a few exceptions that I came up with myself**

_**Dauthblöhd- Death Blood. A shade or similar creature of the Dead**_

_**Fílco- I'm not allowed to translate this**_

**The Journey Begins**

They days had passed quickly for the next week. Finiar had been sure to keep the knowledge of Súndavr's existence a secret from the world around him, and so far none had noticed the small dragon in Eragon's home.

Eragon however, feared that the dragon would be too big to hide soon, and, after concealing Finiar and Súndavr with a word in the Ancient Language, set off to a deserted valley where he and Saphira could begin training the new riders.

Eragon had been right about the size problem, for by the end of the week, Súndavr had grown slightly smaller than Saphira herself. Finiar had also grown quite skilled with a blade (for his lack of experience anyway). Eragon had to admit that with the proper training, Finiar and Súndavr might make a formidable pair for the bonding of rider and dragon.

It was a week later that Eragon called Finiar over to him, and took him, along with Súndavr of course, to _Fyrngrind_, the War Gate. It was here that Eragon, Saphira, and the elves had decided to house the rider's blades that had been recovered from Galbatorix's clutches.

The gate opened with a single word from Eragon's lips and the three walked into the chamber. It was dark, but there was enough light resonating from the chamber's entrance to see anything that they needed.

Eragon immediately grabbed the hilt of a nearby blade, and held it up to Finiar. Its sheath was jet black in color, much like the scales on Súndavr's back. A crown-like glyph was on the tip of the sheath, and the point of it was colored a deep violet, the same exact color of Súndavr's eyes.

The handle and cross-guard were made of a dark gray metal, darker than steel, almost like the smog coming off the tops of _Du Fells Nángoröth_: The blasted mountains.A black gem that Finiar identified as Obsidian sat in the pommel and the end of the handle.

The blade itself was the same shade of black as the sheath, and a faint violet hue emanated from it, like an aura of power. The same crown-like glyph was on both sides of the tip, and Eragon quickly identified it as the elvish glyph for _Valdr_: Ruler in the Ancient Language.

"It's about time you learned some swordplay," Eragon explained as Finiar examined the weapon. "Rhunön told Saphira and I to give this to the next Rider we might find during our last visit to Du Weldenvarden. She told us she had went to sleep one night and had a vision of this sword, and when she awoke, the blade was laying on her workbench."

Finiar was speechless for a moment and then responded to Eragon's words.

"You mean… this is…?"

"Your own Rider's Blade," Eragon confirmed. Finiar strapped the sheath to his side and they turned to leave. Finiar inquired of the blade's name when they reached the gate, and Eragon responded that the blade was named the same as the glyph at the top. Finiar mentally slapped himself for not seeing the obvious, but kept walking just the same.

The unexpected did not occur until Finiar had already reached Súndavr and recounted the events of his and Eragon's exchange in _Fyrngrind_. He was in the middle of showing the blade to his dragon when Eragon stiffened.

"Finiar, do you remember your lessons from yesterday? How to fly on a dragon?"

"Yes sir," he confirmed

"Good. Now I want you to hop on Súndavr and fly east to Alagaësia. Don't stop until you locate Arya in the Elven City of Ellesmera. She won't be hard to find. Súndavr, when you see your father, explain to him the events that transpired here. Finiar, you do the same for Arya. Now go! And don't you dare turn back, no matter what you hear!"

Finiar nodded fearfully and leaped onto Súndavr's back. The dragon flapped his wings once and took off into the sky, hurtling eastward, away from the setting sun.

Eragon watched for a few seconds and then called out to the being that was watching them.

"Show yourself _dauthblöhd_. I've killed two of your kind before, and I'll do it again quite willingly."

A dark figure stepped out from behind a boulder on the mountainside, and Eragon turned to face him.

The creature was none other than a shade, with wild eyes that clearly showed that he was an ancient member of his kind, filled with bloodlust and fury. He pulled a wicked blade from a sheath at his side and pointed it at Eragon. As soon as he did, the sun vanished, and the moon took its place, sending the valley into darkness.

Eragon stood unfazed however, and kept a sharp eye on the creature and the blade at his side. He smiled knowingly and began to speak.

"An impressive trick shade. Your kind _are_ more powerful in the dark aren't they?"

The shade bared his teeth and a murderous look came in his eye.

"A Rider with a brain. There's something you only see once."

Saphira, who had stayed with Súndavr while Finiar went with Eragon into _Fyrngrind_, growled and took a step forward.

"Now wait just a minute there sweetheart. There's someone I want you to meet." He gave a sharp whistle and a shadow zoomed overhead from the mountain summit, landing next to him with a large _boom_. Eragon gasped and he sensed Saphira's shock as well.

Standing before them was a creature that, though similar in structure to that of a dragon, was far more horrific than any dragon they had yet to see, even compared to Shruikan, the single largest beast they thought possible to exist.

Not only was this beast larger than the dragon, but its appearance was far more horrid as well.

Its scales were a dark grey, much like the shade of a tombstone. In several patches, it not only lacked scales, but also skin, muscle, and everything between it and bone. The surrounding tissue rotted like a corpse, and the stench was fairly close to one.

The largest dead patch was on the left side of its skull (right from Eragon's point of view). Its face was completely gone from the middle of its snout to the tip of its horn, which curved like the crescent moon overhead. In its place was the skull of the beast, and where its eye should have been was a deep red blaze, like a flame or the inside of the pit in the vault of souls.

All in all, it looked like a mummified version of Shruikan himself, though still quite a bit larger. In fact, the similarities in structure and appearance were so great that…

Eragon paled. It was impossible. All that had remained of the beast was his skeleton and some small patches of skin that were beyond repair.

"Marvelous isn't he? Found him in the rubble of the old castle the king destroyed. Took quite a bit of energy, and I couldn't fix him completely, but I must say, he's much more sinister isn't he?" the shade laughed and Shruikan roared, his bloodthirsty eyes hungry for vengeance.

Eragon drew his sword, and prepared for battle, but found he couldn't move. A wave of invisible energy lashed out and threw him to the ground. He noticed Saphira in a similar predicament, and he struggled against his invisible bonds.

The shade stepped over him and chuckled. Eragon narrowed his eyes and mentally cursed the shade. He would have lashed out with his mind, but he couldn't get any magic to work, mentally or orally.

"So this is the famed Eragon Bromsson, Kingkiller and _Shadeslayer_. I expected a better fight." And then he brought the blade down in a high arc and all went black.

Finiar and Súndavr were miles away at this point, but Finiar felt a large crash in his mind, like something had just happened, draining him of his stamina.

He heard a loud roar behind him as a shadowy creature shot into the sky, just above _Fyrngrind_.

"_Fílco,"_ he cursed, and Súndavr flew even harder, neither one daring to stop, or even look back until they couldn't see the place anymore.

Eventually they slowed their pace and the flight grew calm and peaceful. Finiar listened to the wind whistling past his ears and the beat of Súndavr's wings and gradually gave into the exhaustion that seeped all the way into his bones, as the pair flew off toward Ellesmera, hoping they could find Arya before it was too late.


	5. Chapter 4

**Hunting In The Night**

Finiar woke up about six hours later, lying against Súndavr's side. He rubbed his eyes and noted that the dragon was coiled up around him, like a ring. Over Finiar's head, one of the dragon's massive wings was extended, creating a roof to keep out the rain that Finiar heard pouring above them.

He attempted to touch the dragon's mind, but noted that he was asleep and gave up. He wanted his Dragon to keep up his strength for the flight to Ellesmera.

And so he waited, listening to the rain pouring around him and the thunder that erupted in the south. Gradually, the winds let down and the rain began to decline in its intensity. He waited another few minutes before he crawled out, gently stepping over Súndavr's tail to avoid waking him.

It was High-moon, around midnight, and he gazed at the full wheel of light, which dominated the night sky and the stars inhabiting it. It was around the eighth month, Finiar knew that much was certain. Time passed in difficult spurts to judge on Vroenguard. Lengthy weeks here and there, maybe a few days that passed quick as lightning thrown into the mix, but overall, very hard to judge.

His stomach rumbled and he quietly walked off, searching for a rabbit or a similar creature to quench his hunger. He noted the beach nearby and assumed that Súndavr had stopped at the water's edge when he noted the coming gale.

A large rumbling sounded from behind him, and he turned to find a toad, larger than any he had seen up to this point in time, with a large orb of light hanging from a wire-like organ on the top of its head. An Anglerfrog, he recalled.

He walked over to it, but it quickly hopped away, and, slow though it was, its leaps were too long for Finiar to even hope catch the creature. He gazed a moment more at where it had been, then turned his eye to the water as a flicker of motion was caught in his peripheral vision.

He just barely caught sight of a crested head, with an elongated neck, as it dove into the water, droplets of liquid streaming off of its flippers as it did.

The creature's presence gave him a sense of unease, as if something dark and ancient had just awoken, and it was watching every move he made. He turned to walk away and continue his search, but noticed another of the shapes watching him, floating in the water with its crested head peering over at him.

He watched a moment more, then took off in the opposite direction, not daring to stop until the beach was far out of sight. A difficult feat considering the elevation of the land surrounding the sea.

He noted some grubs on a log, crawling around searching for food. These were Burrow Grubs, at least that's what Eragon had called them. He had also told them the name for such creatures in the Ancient Language. _Íllgrathar_, he had said, which meant "Bad Hunger" in his native tongue. Ironic considering the circumstances he had found them under. He dared not touch any of them however, remembering the warning Eragon had taught him in his week of training.

"Never touch the grubs found in the logs of Vroenguard," he had said. "They issue a poison when they bite, which inflicts pain even the strongest of Hostages have difficulty withstanding, and then they multiply and begin the process again."

Finiar shuddered, and turned away from the bugs. Was there nothing safe to eat on this accursed beach?

He settled back down against Súndavr's back, and gradually fell asleep, if for no other reason than to ignore the gnawing hunger.

He awoke another two hours later, as Súndavr nudged him with his snout. Finiar sat up and touched Súndavr's mind to his own, establishing the link Eragon had taught him, which allowed communication between the pair.

"_Finiar, we have to find something to eat,"_ Súndavr told him. _"I know you found nothing, but I cannot fly us across the sea on an empty stomach."_

"_I agree, but what of the Nïdwhal?"_ Finiar responded. _"I don't like how they were watching me last night."_

"_They probably thought you looked appetizing,"_ Súndavr pointed out. _"A meal of the sort we must find if we are to reach Dröttning Arya. Now let us go find some food before we have to chew our own tails off!"_

"_I don't have a tail,"_ Finiar noted, sounding very amused.

"_Then you must have already eaten it in your sleep," _Súndavr remarked, and his laughter filled Finiar's mind with joy. _"Now let's go, or I'll die of starvation, and then how would you reach Arya?"_

"_I would swim. I'd get some food first though."_

Súndavr snorted and the pair again walked through the forest and the beach, trying to find some sort of edible meal so they could continue on their journey.


End file.
